Doctors Make the Worst Patients
by shantella1987
Summary: During a quick trip to Siberia (the planet not the Russian province), the Doctor ends up getting sick and needing a little TLC. Nine/Rose. Oneshot.


DISCLAIMER: Nope. My name still isn't Richard T Davies or Steven Moffat and I don't have any claim to Doctor Who.

He had taken her to Siberia – the planet, not the Russian province (she marveled at how many planets shared that kind of coincidence). He hadn't intended to bring her there. He was aiming for a warm climate and Rose unwisely dressed for that kind of weather. But like its Earth counterpart, Siberia was cold. Freezing even. He had landed at the middle of a mountain range and Rose found the view so incredibly breathtaking she couldn't take her eyes off it. She was so taken in with the view that she didn't even realise she was shivering. The Doctor shrugged off his heavy leather coat and in an unprecedented act of chivalry draped it over her shoulders. This action was enough to jar her away from the view in front of her. She looked over at him.

"Thanks, but won't you be cold?" He chuckled at Rose's concern.

"Nope! I'm fine. Hot, cold… doesn't matter to me."

"But you're always so cold." He shrugged again.

"That's just my biology. My body heat's regulated differently; as a result my body temperature is just lower than yours. I don't feel temperature variations like you humans do. But you, Rose Tyler, you need to stay warm. I don't want to explain to Jackie why her daughter caught pneumonia on an alien planet. I've been slapped enough for one lifetime, thank you very much." Rose giggled at him and gave him that tongue in teeth smile that he secretly loved so much.

"Fine, if you say so." She snuggled further into the coat and slipped her arms into the sleeves. They were so long they covered her hands.

The Doctor was grateful when she turned to look back at the mountain range. He tried to be nonchalant as he crossed his arms over his chest and he surreptitiously stuck his fingers in his armpits to keep them warm. His explanation to Rose was mostly true, but he was freezing. He toughed it out though. The cold was worth seeing the wonder on his companion's face. They remained on the mountaintop until the sun sank over the horizon, dropping the temperature down even more. It got to the point where even the added warmth of the Doctor's coat wasn't enough for Rose and they retreated back into the TARDIS. He bid her goodnight and quickly darted to his room. Not even bothering to take off his boots, he dived under his bedspread in a bid to warm himself up a bit.

Rose didn't think much of his hasty retreat. He'd often do that instead of joining her for one last cup of tea before turning in. But that was a ritual she never broke. She went to the TARDIS kitchen and enjoyed her tea with two sugars. She realised she was still wearing his coat and took a good whiff of its lining. The smell of worn leather mixed with his aftershave brought a smile to her lips. She could scarcely believe he let her borrow it instead of insisting she go and get a warm coat from the wardrobe. Was the Doctor just being nice? Or was there more at play…? She shook off the last thought. What would a 900-year-old Time Lord even see in her anyways? She finished up her tea and headed to bed herself.

He would never know that she fell asleep in that coat.

The next morning, Rose wandered the corridors looking to return the coat to him. She couldn't find him in the kitchen enjoying a banana for breakfast, in the library engrossed in a good book or even in the console room tinkering with the controls. There was only one place she hadn't looked. One place she'd never even seen: his room. It was strange that he'd still be in there. He wasn't one for sleeping in, or even sleeping much at all for that matter. She cautiously approached his door and rapped her knuckles against it.

"Doctor? You in there?" She called.

"Go away." She heard his muffled reply. Something seemed off with his voice.

"I just wanted to return your coat." She tried again. She heard him mutter something in response, but didn't catch what he said through the door. But then she heard something clear as a bell: a sneeze.

"You okay in there?" Her brow knitted in concern.

"'M fine. Just let me…" His words were drowned out by a terrible cough. "Just let me sleep." Rose blinked. He sounded terrible. Despite his protests she opened the door and stepped boldly into his room. It was dark and her eyes took a moment to adjust. The light from the hallway filtered through the door and it landed on the form of the Doctor lying prone in his bed. He was still fully dressed and wrapped up in his blankets. One Doc Martin clad foot poked out from under his covers and almost grazed the floor.

"I said 'go away.'" He repeated again, his voice hoarse and muffled as he spoke into his pillow. Rose ignored him and walked closer. Noticing a light on his bedside table, she reached for the switch and turned it on. He groaned and buried his head further into his pillow. She put her hand on his shoulder and tried to roll him over to get a look at his face. She could feel his muscles tighten as he resisted.

"Doctor, look at me." She instructed as she tried to roll him over again.

"Rose. Leave me alone…" He muttered resisting against her hand as hard as he could. Rose rolled her eyes at his stubbornness, but she could be as equally stubborn.

"Look I'm not leavin' until you at least look at me. Now c'mon!" She shoved his shoulder again, and this time he relented with a grunt. His face was pale and his steel blue eyes stood out even more against the dark circles under them. She noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead and only now did she realise how warm his skin felt through his jumper. "You're sick." Rose breathed.

"Thank you Capitan Obvious…" The Doctor muttered as he rolled onto his back and just stared at the ceiling. Rose looked over to the end of the bed where she tossed his coat.

"You told me you didn't feel the cold." Rose said quietly as she put the pieces together in her head. The Doctor sighed loudly, knowing she had caught on to his little lie. She tried not to feel guilty but was utterly failing. The Doctor raised himself up on his elbows and was rewarded with a coughing fit. Rose looked back over to him and gently brought the back of her hand up to his forehead. She could feel the heat radiating off of him before her hand made contact. "You're sick because of me…" She whispered. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from his face

"No." He said gently, his voice even more hoarse. He released her wrist only to take her hand in his "I'm sick because the TARDIS decided to land somewhere other than where I wanted. I'm sick because I know I'd never hear the end of it from Jackie if I let you catch a chill. So promise me you won't blame yourself." He mustered a small smile as he squeezed her hand. She smiled back and nodded. How could she argue with him, especially while he was in this state? "Fan… faaaa... fantaaaa…" His face screwed up as he struggled to say his favourite word, but his nose seemed to have other plans for him at that moment. He quickly abandoned trying to speak and sneezed so loud Rose was left with ringing in her ears. She couldn't help but giggle and gave him her signature tongue in teeth smile.

"Now, don't fuss over me." He instructed. "All I need is a bit of sleep and I'll be better in no time." He moved to settle back into his bed. But just like 'Don't wander off', Rose decided to ignore his instructions.

"Well, you're never going to get comfortable wearing _those_." She pointed at the Doctor's boots. Without another word she had grabbed one of his feet and was quickly undoing laces. He tried to yank his foot back, but out of fear of kicking her (and her strong grip) he didn't get very far.

"Oi! Didn't I just say 'don't fuss'?"

"Yeah, well… you looked after me, so I'm returnin' the favour." She replied flatly as she tugged his boot and sock off and went to work on his other foot. He went to protest but seeing that his foot was happier out of the heavy boot he thought better of it. Once both feet were free (and Rose's nostrils felt like they wanted to run for the hills) she stood and located the Doctor's bathroom off to the side, remembering something her mum used to do for her when she was sick. She found a clean bucket and face cloth and filled the bucket with cool water. The Doctor watched her with suspicion that she was about to mother him back to health, and he was dead on.

"You _really_ don't have to bother yourself." He tried protesting again. She only smiled at him as she put the bucket down on the floor next to the bed and adjusted his blankets to cover him better before she sat down beside him on the bed. She dipped the face cloth into the water and rung out the access and brought it up to his forehead and pressed it up to his fevered brow. He flinched at first, but then began to lean into her touch seeking the cool relief of the cloth, his eyes closing on their own volition. He felt her thumb brush against his skin and couldn't help the contented sigh that escaped him.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He heard her giggle as she dipped the cloth back into the cool water and pressed it against his cheek this time.

"Fantastic…" he breathed, finally getting the entire word out. He felt sleep gnawing at him again feeling much more comfortable than he did before. He drifted off within minutes while Rose continued to stroke his face with that amazingly cool cloth.

Rose watched him sleep for what seemed like an eternity. Despite the fact that the Doctor looked so pale and sickly, he looked so peaceful. _Peaceful._ Now that was a word she never associated with him. Ever since they met it was all running and explosions. And yet, there seemed to be something more. They were friends, Rose even dared to call him her best friend, but the way smiled at her, took her by the hand and refused to let go. And now he was sick because he wanted her to be happy. Did he regard her as _more_ than a friend? She found herself caring for him at a level she hadn't for a very long time. She realised she didn't even think about Mickey that often anymore.

Could it be that she was -?

She shook herself out of finishing that thought. It was impossible. There was an 881 year age gap between them for goodness sake. He even looked too old for her.

' _Now if he looked like that bloke I met on New Year's... Oh God he was gorgeous! Those eyes, that hair, those sideburns… Wonder if I'll ever see him again…?'_

She shook herself again. Fantasising about another man right now really wasn't helping either. Rose leaned over the Doctor's sleeping form and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up. She thought about what else she could do for him to help him recover. She remembered him telling her that he was allergic to most Human medicines. Aspirin was right out. That would kill him. She hated not knowing what to do. But the Doctor had insisted all he needed was sleep. She sighed. He knew himself better than she did. His name implied that he knew how to heal the sick, so she decided to accept his judgement. She quietly switched off the light, picked up the bucket and cloth and took them back into his bathroom and went to leave the room altogether.

"Rose…" She was halted by the Doctor's voice. She looked over to find his eyes still closed. He could just be talking in his sleep. But she decided not to be rude.

"Yeah?" She replied softly.

"Thanks for looking after me." She found herself grinning from ear to ear.

"Anytime." The Doctor smiled back, but she couldn't see it in the dark.


End file.
